


Reassurances

by afteriwake



Series: Chains Of Love [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Developing Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, POV Molly Hooper, Promises, Reassurances, Relationship Discussions, Talking, learning about each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Molly realizes Sherlock isn't sure about things, but he doesn't seem to want to talk about it, and then when they're on her sofa after she makes them dinner he tells her very quietly and she assures him it's all right, he'll learn, and they'll work on things together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic was picked by **a_dark_day** for my Molly Madness Month but I just got around to writing it now. Unfortunately, I misplaced the prompt I answered and then my computer restarted so I don't know exactly what inspired this story, but I hope you enjoy it!

Something was a little off between them. She wasn’t sure _what_ exactly, but she and Sherlock didn’t seem to be at the same point in their relationship at this point than she had with other people she’d been with. She had the feeling a lot of it had to do with _him_ and that made her wonder if maybe, even with the rum soaked confession and everything, if they should have simply waited.

She cared about him just as much as she loved him. She had loved him for a long time, and she _knew_ it was love. She had tried to date other men, and it always ended disastrously because she knew her heart truly belonged to Sherlock. But maybe it wasn’t meant to work out. Maybe a relationship between them just wasn’t meant to happen.

And because she cared, if he didn’t want them to be a couple, she’d let him go.

He had come by the morgue to take her out for dinner but she suggested an evening in instead, and she could see him relax at that. She had enough food to make something simple, and when they got back to her place she made a dish of spicy beef and noodles with fresh vegetables that she had thought he might enjoy. He seemed to relax even more when it became obvious that they were staying inside for the entire night, and he ended up offering to help cook.

That lead her to think maybe there weren't problems with their relationship, but perhaps how their relationship played out.

After dinner was finished and Sherlock had helped her with the dishes, she sat on the sofa with him, close but not too close. She wanted to give him space if he needed it, and let him determine how close to get. Eventually, he leaned against the arm of her sofa and stretched out so his knees were touching hers. “So,” she said, enjoying the glass of wine she’d poured for her dinner. “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I suppose I could learn more about you.”

“You mean you haven’t deduced everything you need to know?” she teased, and was surprised when he frowned. She set her glass on the table and turned more towards him. “Sherlock?”

“I haven’t,” he said quietly. “I know _things_ about you, but not enough things. Not the right things. I didn’t know about your parents. I don’t know about your family. Until you let me use your flat as a bolthole, I had no idea you liked cats. I _should_ know these things, and I don’t. That makes me a bad boyfriend.”

Molly scooted closer, close enough to take his hands. “No, Sherlock, it really doesn’t. Even someone with your skills can’t expect to know everything about everybody, especially when you tend to brush off certain information as...” She pulled a hand away and waved it back in forth in the air by her face. “Extraneous. And that’s all right. You just have to learn it and then remember it. And you have time. Loads of time, if you want it. I’m not going to break up with you just because you made a gaffe about my parents. Most people don’t know, to be honest.”

He let his thumb run over her knuckles. “So you don’t blame me for not knowing more about you?”

She shook her head. “I think there’s a lot I don’t know about you, either. I mean, I know you have a brother, but do you have any other siblings?”

“No,” he said. “It’s just Mycroft and I.”

“See? I asked a question and I learned a new fact,” she said with a smile. “Now it’s your turn.”

Sherlock looked down at their hands, beginning to use his thumb to rub a circle on her skin. “When did you know you wanted to become a specialist registrar?”

She settled in more, leaning more towards him and getting comfortable. “In uni. I had an amazing professor who could tell I was more interested in the pathology side of doctoring and gave me good advice on how to change my schooling to accommodate that. She could see I enjoyed science as much as medicine.”

Sherlock used his other hand to gesture for her to lay down on the sofa next to him, and she settled half on top of him, half on the sofa, her head resting on his chest. Their hands were still clasped and she felt more comfortable than she had in ages. It was nice to kiss him, it was, but this was much nicer, simply being close and comfortable and content. “May I ask another question?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s quite fair,” she teased. “How will I learn about you?”

“Well, you fascinate me,” he said. “The fact you are so warm and loving and caring, and even though I’m stumbling my way through this you’re willing to do what I need. There aren’t many women like you, I’d imagine, who would put up with a man like me for as long as you have.”

“Well, I do care greatly,” she said.

“You haven’t said if you love me,” he replied quietly. “I know I said I wasn’t sure, but I think I do. The idea that I was just making a complete hash of things and that you would give up had terrified me.”

“Then I suppose it’s alright to tell you I do,” she said with a smile, lifting her head up to look down at him. “And I’ll be here as you sort this whole relationship thing out. I promise.”

“Good,” he said. She set her head back on his chest and he pressed a kiss in her hair. “I _suppose_ you can ask the next question if you really want to.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, and then they settled into a back and forth of questions and answers that lasted long into the night, until they fell asleep on the sofa, a throw pulled haphazardly over the both of them, and her last thought was this was probably one of the best nights she had ever had.


End file.
